


by candlelight

by thelostcolony



Series: you catch more bees with honey than vinegar [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, alexander's just basically reflecting on how um much he likes ben, it's implied nothing is explicitly stated or narrated, post coital cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 22:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14121966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelostcolony/pseuds/thelostcolony
Summary: "In works of labor or of skill I would be busy too: for Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do."And Alexander has certain found mischief in his idleness.





	by candlelight

Benjamin is deeply asleep.

One hand is thrown above his head; the other lies at his side, somewhat outstretched, fingers gently tangled in the sheets, clinging. His lips are parted, heavy breaths interrupted only by the soft snag of a half-snore at the back of his throat; long eyelashes rest against still-flushed cheeks, the pink of them traveling down his neck and into his ears. His hair is free of its queue, lightly strewn across the pillow. He looks wild and at peace, and as Alexander traces Ben’s jaw with his fingertips he can’t help but compare Benjamin to John.

John is a haphazard sleeper, limbs akimbo in sleep after their activities in the bedroom. Always ready to fight, his hands twitch, fingers half-curled; knees are bent, ready to spring up at a moment’s notice; a furrow always creases his brow. Alexander has spent many a night trying to soothe that crease away, drawing words into John’s skin to try to sink them into bones made for war, trying to force that war into peace. _ Come with me, _ he traces.  _ Come with me when I finally hang my coat. Come with me to Congress when the time comes; stay with me instead of the fight. Come with me, don’t go with gunfire. _

John never wakes. He’s far too deep a sleeper to wake at Alexander’s caresses, so used to them he must be, but sometimes Alexander wishes that he would - just to comprehend the words Alexander is tracing. During his more idle moments, Alexander imagines John finally waking and looking at him and saying  _ yes, Alexander. I’ll come with you. _

Idle thoughts, idle thoughts. His mother used to laugh, set him back to his numbers or his letters when he attempted to doodle with his quill on the corners of his parchment - she’d laugh and set his hands back to rights, all the while quoting, “in works of labor or of skill I would be busy too: for Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do”. Should Satan find mischief enough for idle hands, then what of idle thoughts? What of idle wonderings? 

_ Either way _ , Alexander says to himself,  _ I’m grappling with a devil. Be it hands or thoughts, if the devil catches a man idle, he’ll set him to work.  _

He glances at Benjamin.

_ And I have certainly been set to work. _

But even still, he can’t imagine how this - any of this - lovemaking or passion-meeting or whatever a poet may wish to coin it - could be the work of the devil. Not for the pleasure of it (though that is, certainly, never an excluded point), but for the fact that, particularly with Benjamin and John, it is never in a burst of lust or sudden arousal or whatever other sinful emotion can be proclaimed. It’s never for the pure physicality of it, for the satiation of that primal urge after which they go their separate ways and never consider thinking upon one another again. John, while he was here (and even still in his absence) drove Alexander wild with passion; affection welled up like a storm and crashed over him and fondness, as strong as a hurricane, toppled him without a second thought. The physicality of sex had been an afterthought, a fleeting joy, in comparison to spending time with John, to speaking with him, to fighting alongside him with quill and ink and, later, with gun and powder. Their joining had always been a search for further connection, deeper understanding, not some - some pitiful half-considered ten seconds of pleasure.

And as for Benjamin - well. Benjamin is quite different from John. No - Benjamin had not swept Alexander up as John had; Alexander had not been carried off to sea by Benjamin’s charms or his passion or his wit. It had been the quiet things, the softer things that had truly ensnared him in the end - the fury of Benjamin and Washington’s first fight had been what had piqued Alexander’s interest, surely, but had not been the reason he stayed. It had been Benjamin’s quiet strength, the steel of his eyes, the soft curve of his mouth when he smiled; clever words spoken in jest or heat or, later, gentler words spoken in shyness and warmth. Benjamin is not the wildfire that John is; he’s that which keeps one warm on a cold night, or safe in darkness by providing light. Protective, yes; fierce, of course; unreasonable...occasionally. And still, still - if John is the vinegar, then Benjamin must be the honey.

Benjamin sighs gently in his sleep, and Alexander lifts his fingers from Ben’s skin. He drifts lower; allows his hand to graze along Benjamin’s arm, allows his fingertips to touch the back of Benjamin’s hand, the one still clinging to the sheets. The touch is feather-light; there’s no pressure, only the warmth of Alexander’s skin. Still, Benjamin’s fingers twitch, and Alexander obligingly slides his hand into Ben’s slack, sleep-loose grasp. Ben sighs again, soft, and Alexander’s lips curl into a smile before he can stop them.

Still, he takes his hand from Ben’s; heeds the faint little grunt he receives in response and reroutes to Ben’s forearm, settling the pads of his fingers against it. The skin is smooth; goosebumps blossom where Alexander is touching, though the flush to Ben’s cheeks hasn’t even completely gone yet. He looks at Ben’s face, at the peace of his too-often pinched expression, and as his fingers idly begin to trace, Alexander thinks of nothing but the words he’s pressing to Ben’s skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all !! so this is the third and (likely the last) installment to this series (but ofc not to worry because the gay has only just begun). "down for the count" hasn't been finished yet, but Chapter 2 will be on the way !! It'll be Cassie's debut in the story, so I hope y'all are excited !!
> 
> There are two citations I have to make for this chapter; “in works of labor or of skill I would be busy too: for Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do” comes from the book "Divine And Moral Songs For Children" that was put together by a guy named Isaac Watts in 1715, and this was an excerpt quote that I found that I thought was rather suiting for Alex's line of thought.
> 
> The second, "If the devil catch a man idle, he'll set him at work" is from a text put together by Thomas Fuller called Gnomologia in 1732. I really tried to find quotes that Alexander's mother may have known perchance due to the time period (ofc I have NO CLUE if she really knew them or not or even told them to Alex, but artistic license and all that).
> 
> That said, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed !! Please leave me a comment / a kudos and let me know what you thought !!
> 
> P.S. Hit Cassie and I up on tumblr at thcgardcn.tumblr.com to see updates, new fics, and meta~
> 
> -Ro


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